Lost in the Night
by brittanyssuitsandties
Summary: Santana,: I will miss you, don't forget me. I'm going to work with the men in the suits. They want something of me...and I don't want you to get hurt. I hope I will be back. I'm sorry. Feed Ms. Tubbington, I love you. XOXO, Britt. Brittany goes missing, and Santana hires Detectives Anderson & Hummel to solve the case... NOT A KIDNAPPING STORY. Brittana & Klaine. Other CC's later
1. Chapter 1

Hi! So currently, this is Sami (mysteryklainer), and this is my shared account with one miss Kiki you-can't-know-her-last name (9opera). We are on a first name basis here, people ;)

Sorry. Ignore my lame jokes. As I've said, this is mine and Kiki's story, and we are really excited to be writing it together. We're not sure how often we will be posting, but we will try to make it ASAP! And as we've said in the summary, this is _not _a kidnapping story. Which is good. Right? This story will mainly revolve around Santana, Kurt, and Blaine, but we will mention Brittany a lot (she will even have some of her own little chapters) and many other CC's will show up throughout the story. I talk too much, so now I'm going to shut up. Enjoy and R&R!

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Chapter One

"Mrs. Santana Lopez-Pierce, you're on in 5." One of her many assistants told her.

"Kay." Santana said casually, drinking another bottle of water before going onstage. She ran on the stage as applause flew over the stadium. She took the mic and sang:

'You never knew what I could do now you know me I never thought I could get caught in your little mess How do you live can't you forgive the small mistakes But now is the time for me to shine, and you and your crew need to get out of my life Cause I'm DONE!' (Backup singers: she's done) Done (Backup singers: she's done), done (Backup singers: she's done) , Doo-o-one.

She finished the song and ran off stage as the audience went wild. This was one of her many concerts, in 2015. She had been married with Brittany for just a year. She was a famous singer while Britt was the owner and main dancer of the Alvin Ailey Dance Theater. They were very happy together, and had a house in Queens, New York.

"You were great!" Brittany said as she through her arms around Santana and gave her a kiss.

"Thanks hon, how was work?" Santana asked Brittany and kissed her back.

"It was okay.." Brittany said, her smile fading.

"Are you sure? Cause if it's not, I can have a little talk with your boss." Santana said and smirked.

"No. Let's just go home." Brittany stated, looking away. Santana nodded, perplexed because usually Britt would laugh when she said that.

"Are you alright?" She asked, concerned.

"I said I'm fine, San! Let's just go home!" Santana jolts in alarm; Brittany never, ever snapped, not unless something was very wrong. But she shut her mouth because she didn't want to irritate her wife any further. They walked to the car and drove home. As they opened the door, Brittany yelled,

"Ms. Tubbingtonnnn!" and a cat who was a bit bigger than a kitten came running into Brittany's arms, meowing loudly.

"I missed you." Brittany whispered in her ear as she pet the cat.

"And you didn't miss me?" Santana demanded, having a sassy look on her face.

"Yes, I missed my Sanny too." Brittany murmured, putting the cat in Santana's face, as the cat started licking their faces. Under her breath, she added "And will miss you". Tubbington is Lord Tubbington's daughter. After Lord Tubbington's road to recovery from crack, Lord Tubbington started a family…then Mrs. Tubbington his partner left him and he got addicted to crack, and eventually died. So all Brittany had of the Tubington family was Ms. Tubbington.

Brittany and Santana sat down to a nice dinner, and then watched one of their favorite comedies, Santana hoping it would cheer Brittany up, but to Santana's horror, Brittany burst into tears as the credits scrolled on the screen.

"Come on Britt, please tell me what's bothering you." Santana pleaded, taking Britt's hand.

"I-I can't!" Brittany stuttered then, seeming to realize what she had said, screamed, "Nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong!" She took a deep breath and calmly stated, "I'm fine...I just...really missed you today."

"It was just a few hours, I mean I missed you too but you don't usually act like this." Santana said and brushed Britt's hair comfortingly. "Are you sure you can't tell me?"

"It's nothing. Let's just go to bed." She gave the fakest smile Santana had ever seen, and it bothered her. Brittany never lied to her, or anyone. Santana didn't even think she could lie. But she decided to give it a rest until tomorrow. Brittany would be fine. So they walked to their room, getting dressed and ready for bed in complete silence. They both laid on their bed beside each other, but for the first time in their marriage, their is an awkward tension between them.

"I love you." Santana said almost hopefully. To her surprise, Brittany leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips.

"I love you too." She said quietly, and Santana sat up to wrap her arms around her. Brittany hugged her much too tightly in return and buried her face in Santana's shoulder.

"G-good night." Brittany squeaked, and abruptly let go.

What Santana didn't know as she lay beside her was that Brittany would cry until the mere hours of the morning, and then she would disappear with only one thing left for any hope at all.

***********************************The Next Morning***************************************

"Brittany!" Santana, at this point has become hysterical. She'd awoke that morning to find her wife completely gone. She'd tried calling Britt's phone at least a thousand times,, but each time she had been lead straight to automatic voicemail. Which meant her phone was off. She'd called her workplace, all different assorted friends, even her family, of whom Santana despised. She's searched through every room in the apartment, though admittedly there was not much to search. Brittany was avoiding her. And to Santana, it was absolutely infuriating. So infuriating, in fact, that it got to the point that Santana was pulling her hair out- quite literally!

She'd wracked her brain for every possible place Brittany could be in the tri-state area, and searched every one. And she'd landed right back in the room she'd started in: Their bedroom. She sat where Britt had slept, thinking, and touched the pillow. She found it was soaked with water that could only be tears.. When she picked up the wet pillow, she is confused to find a piece of white loose-leaf paper, but she takes it and begins to read her wife's familiar handwriting.

Santana,: I will miss you, don't forget me. I'm going to work with the men in the suits. They want something of me...and I don't want you to get hurt. I hope I will be back. I'm sorry. Feed Ms. Tubbington, I love you. XOXO, Britt 3 :-(

Santana's eyes begin to fill, but she hastily wipes the tears away. God damn it, Santana, pull yourself together, you don't cry, you simply don't! Santana berated herself. She paced agonizingly, cursing herself for letting this happen, and wondering what the hell she's going to do. And who were these fucked up 'men in the suits' were 'If they think they can fucking steal my wife, they've got another thing coming!' Santana thought furiously. 'I'm from Lima Heights Adjacent! I don't take this shit!' She was so aggravated and upset, she walked over to her wall, and in a rage, punched a huge hole right through it! She cursed and examined her bloody knuckles. They were going to swell. Terrific. Just what she needed. 'They are going to pay' Santana promised herself. 'They are going to pay for hurting my wife. They'll regret fucking with the Lopez-Pierce's.'

************************************Two Hours Later**************************************

At the Anderson Detective Agency (otherwise known as the ADA), the phone had began to ring.

"Kurt." Blaine mumbled. Blaine Anderson was Kurt's partner, and they'd been working together for years. They also happened to be dating. Blaine's father owned the Agency, hence the name. Kurt ignored Blaine and placed another kiss to his neck.

"Phone can wait." Blaine rolled his eyes and pushed him off.

"Hon, we actually have to work. Remember this our job?" Kurt stuck his tongue out at him.

"How mature, Mr. Hummel." And with that Blaine picked up the phone just in time.

"Hello?" There was a hysterical woman on the other side of the phone.

"Hi, I'm Santana Lopez-Pierce..." She said frantically. "I- My wife is missing and-"

"Put her on speakerphone." Kurt whispered. And Blaine did. The woman, whose name is apparently Santana Lopez-Pierce, couldn't seem to stop talking.

"-And she wasn't there and the police and they're fucking morons so they thought that she just left me but I know-"

"Miss Lopez Pierce. If I may." Blaine interrupted in a professional tone. Santana was quiet.

"I have to talk to my partner for a moment. We'll call you back in a minute."

"But-" He hung up and put the phone back on the handle.. Blaine bit his lip and said,

"Okay. Research."

They looked up her name first, which actually produced many photos.

"Oh, right, there's that singer named..." Blaine looked up. "Were we talking to her?" So they watched an interview and determined, yes, the voice on the phone was the normally so calm and collected Santana Lopez-Pierce.

"Oh my god, I love her song, Done!"

"Kurt, please. I don't need a fanboy." And they found pictures of her wife, Brittany Lopez-Pierce. Kurt studied that picture carefully. She looked exactly like... 'Oh my god, that's Brittany!' He thought.

"We have to take the case." He said aloud.

"What? Why?"

"Please, please Blaine, we have to take the case!"

"But Dad's not here to give us the a-ok." Kurt snorted.

"When have you ever listen to your father?" Good point.

"Fine. We'll call her back." They arranged to be at her house in twenty minutes, if there was no traffic.

"Let's go, Kurt. Come on." So they got into the car and Kurt reminded Blaine,

"Remember, she can't know we're dating."

"I know, I'm not stupid. It would get you fired." When they arrived at the address Santana had given them they gasped. This place was huge.

"Okay, Kurt, let's do this." Kurt grinned and gave him one last kiss on the cheek before they walked into the apartment building.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry sorry sorry. For the late update. It's Sami here, but Kiki says hi as well :) I hope you like this, is it slightly decent? Please tell us what you think :)

Thanks - S&K

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As soon as Santana heard the knock on the door, she jumped up from her chair and opened the door nervously. Why are you nervous? You are Santana Lopez. You are strong. And you don't take anything from anybody. Alright. Santana finished her pep talk and she put her chin up.

"Hello, Mrs. Lopez-Pierce. We've come to help you find your wife." Blaine said professionally.

"Oh, and I love your song Done!" Kurt squealed. Blaine nudged him in the side with his shoulder and glared at him. "What? It's totally professional to fanboy!" They looked to see Santana crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at their bickering.

"Oh yes, totally professional." She snapped sarcastically.

"Sorry." Kurt said, looking to the floor.

"I'm sorry for my partner's actions." Blaine added.

"Are you going to help me find my wife or not?" Santana snapped again, obviously annoyed.

"Yes, yes we are." Blaine replied, once again formal. He did not notice Kurt scowl beside him.

"Then come in." Santana said coldly. She stepped aside to let the detectives in and lead them to her living room. They sat on the couch in awkward silence until Blaine picked up his notebook and pencil. "So, when was the last time you saw Brittany?" Blaine inquired.

"In bed, with me."

"Doing what?" Kurt smirks. Santana is thrown off.

"Detective Hummel! Be professional for once!" Blaine demanded. Kurt scowled once more and Santana said angrily,

"If you're going to make a joke out of my wife's disappearance, then you can get the hell out."

"Sorry. He's in training. This is his first case." This was a lie, a huge lie. Kurt had been working with Blaine for six years now.

"Whatever. Don't care. Are we going to solve this case or fuck around?" Kurt rolled his eyes, but Blaine once again picked up his pen. "What did she say that night?"

"Well...she was acting really weird. She wouldn't tell me what's wrong, she burst into tears when we were watching a comedy and she said she missed me a lot. Oh, and here's a note she left me under her pillow." Santana explained and gave him the note. Blaine recorded what Santana had said and examined the note carefully. He read it and his brows furrowed in confusion. "Suits and the ties..." Blaine muttered, trying to comprehend what that meant, or rather was meant to mean. He hands Kurt the notepad and gets out his phone to do some research.

"Do you have anything that could track down Brittany? Like a phone, or a car?" Blaine asked curiously.

"Yes! Well, her car is still here, so either she walked-"

"-Which is unlikely." Kurt interrupts.

"Or she was driven by someone else. I have her number, though, and I must've called her a million times and she doesn't answer." Santana said frustratedly.

"Hmm. If I can convince my boss that this case is important enough, then we can hack into Brittany's phone and locate where it is, and find her." Blaine proclaimed and smiled. Santana perked up.

"Wow, it's that easy?" she asked, sounding almost astonished.

"I wish. How are we going to convince your fa- I mean, our boss, Blaine? He would never take this case because of... you know." Kurt said. Blaine nodded, then looked at his watch.

"Oh- oh shit!" Blaine stuttered, knowing that wasn't professional. "E-excuse my language, we have to go. But give me a call tomorrow and I'll tell you what we can find and if we can hack into Brittany's phone." Blaine promised Santana as they all got up and headed for the door.

"Thanks for helping. I'm gonna need it. Oh, and you should tell them I'm the Santana Lopez! I am a celebrity, so they have to think my case is important." Santana stated with pride.

"Great, we'll do that. Bye!" Blaine yelled, running out the door with Kurt following close behind.

*****************Lost In The Night********************************************* *******************

Blaine pressed the number 1 when he opened his phone and it began to ring. A gruff voice answered on the third,

"Blaine?"

"Hello, Father." Blaine said formally. Beside him, Kurt resists the urge to roll his eyes, instead sighing loudly. Which is much better, of course. Blaine glared at him and put his Dad on speakerphone.

"-that I don't want to talk to you, but why are you calling me now?" Mr. Anderson demanded.

"I need to talk you to you about a new case."

"A new case? Blaine, you begged me to keep you off-duty for a while! I busted my ass to get you fucking two weeks of just phone duty, risking everyone else thinking I'm favouring you, and now you're asking for a case?"

"Pleeeeaaaaaase, Dad?" Blaine whined into the phone like a little child.

"No."

"But there's a woman missing!"

"So? Why is this case so important? It's not like we don't have a million other missing people cases." Mr. Anderson asked.

"Yeah, well...this case is with... a famous singer, and it would get us lots of money and press coverage. We just need to hack into the wife's phone."

"Fine, you can hack into his wife's phone...but that's it for now! Ask me before you do anything else. Now if you'll excuse me, I have another meeting to attend. Goodbye." Mr. Anderson said and promptly hung up.

"Well isn't your father as pleasant as always."

"Oh, look on the bright side. We got the job, Kurtsie." Blaine said, the pet name slipping.

"Should we call Santana, babe?" Kurt used this name on purpose, and he grinned elatedly when Blaine did not correct him. Blaine never let him call him any pet names; and he hardly used any at all. I mean, when could they... not out, not at work, and they could never even be at home together... Kurt is snapped out of his thoughts when Santana's voice is relayed over the crackling speakerphone:

"Hello? Detective Blaine?"

"Yes, that's me. I would like to inform you that we have gotten permission to hack into Brittany's phone and find her location. Is that alright with you?"

"More than alright! Holy shit, Blaine! Can you come over right now?"

"Maybe...one minute, I need to talk to my partner." You know, Kurt looked forward to the day when he could call Blaine his actual partner. His eyes widen at his own thoughts; Stop getting ahead of yourself, Kurt; he doesn't even like you enough to come out. Kurt knew that wasn't true. If Kurt and Blaine came out, they'd both lose their job.  
"Ugh, not again."

Blaine put the phone on hold, and turned to Kurt.

"And what exactly do you need to talk to me about, Mr. Anderson?" Kurt inquired, sounding a bit angry to Blaine's surprise.

"I just want to make sure you're completely sure about this case, Kurt."

Kurt rolls his eyes, and said with a strange amount of force, "I'm not an idiot. I know what I'm getting into." He regarded his secret boyfriend for a moment and said suddenly, "You know, you're not the boy I fell in love with. Somewhere along the way, someone stuck a stick up your ass!" And he stormed out, leaving Blaine following quickly behind, wondering what the hell had just happened.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blaine spat, trying to catch up to Kurt.

"It means you're no fun anymore." Kurt informed him without turning around, opening the door to the car.

"God damn it Kurt, life isn't all about having fun. You have to be serious sometimes. Apparently you haven't learned that lesson yet." Blaine shot back as he got into the car as well. Kurt doesn't reply, and for most of the ride they sit in silence. But at some point, Blaine could swear he heard Kurt mutter,

"What happened to you, Blaine? What happened?"

************************20 minutes later*****************

Knock, knock, knock. One, two, three. Kurt counted each time Blaine's knuckles hit the hardwood door, watching his boyfriend (they were still boyfriends, weren't they?) shift on his feet impatiently. Four, five, six. And suddenly the door swung open, revealing a much more put together Santana Lopez, but still obviously frantic and worried. No amount of makeup could hide it.

"Hello, Ms. Lopez-Pierce." Kurt said. Santana, for her part, rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh please, don't bullshit me. You're not polite in the slightest. Cut the crap, Blaine." Blaine stuck out his hand once more to the woman,

"Actually, I'm Blaine, Miss, and I am hoping we can make a better impression this time around."

"One would hope." Santana muttered dryly, and stepped aside to let the duo into her apartment.

"So, what would your wife's number be?" Blaine inquired. "We have gotten permission from our boss to hack into her phone and hopefully, with our technology, track down her current location. We may be able to find her and get her back to you from there, but it is highly unlikely."

"Well isn't that fantastic." Santana replied, her sarcasm obviously not taken along with her sanity.

"Just give us her number!" Kurt snapped, not in the mood and annoyed by Santana's attitude. Blaine felt a weird sense of foreboding, and as though the blue-eyed man's and the black-haired woman's personalities would not mix well. He wanted to tell Kurt that, but Kurt had desperately wanted this job. And he didn't really know if him and Kurt were talking at the moment.

"Don't you snap at me!" Santana snapped back. She then took a deep breath, and pointedly ignored Kurt:

"Britt's number is: +1(917)-462-3599." She recited by memory.

Blaine wrote the number down and took out a big computer, plugging it into a nearby outlet, and got to work. He opened an application called 'Hack-attack' and typed in Brittany's number.

"Really? Hack-attack?" Santana snarked.

"Oh, like you could come up with anything better." Kurt responded with just as much of a bite. He was beginning to take a sort of disliking to the woman. Blaine, absorbed in his work, did not even seem to notice their bickering; his hands moved ever so quickly across the small keys, the clicking sound of said keys being the only thing disturbing the now awkward silence of the room.

"I've got it!" He suddenly exclaimed, and Santana and Kurt let out the silent breathes they hadn't even known they'd been holding. He tilted the large, bulky laptop toward them, and there was a globe on the screen, with a small red pinpoint somewhere in the East Coast of the USA.

"Looks near here." Blaine mused to himself.

"Can you zoom in closer?" Kurt, forgetting himself, rested his head on Blaine's shoulder, and Blaine absentmindedly took his hand. Santana raised an eyebrow.

"You two together, then?" She asked, smirking. Kurt jolted up and Blaine hastily drops the other man's hand though it had burned him.

"No! What... that's... that's absurd! Why would I date him?" Santana didn't miss Kurt's flinch when Blaine said that. His eyes begin to swirl with grey.

"Now. Let's get to work." He said sharply. Blaine felt a twinge of regret at what he'd said, But, he thought, It had to be done. We can't have anyone knowing we're dating, especially not a client. He had no way of knowing this was exactly why Kurt had snapped at him today.

"Alright, so..." Blaine zoomed in a bit more, and the two hunched in over the screen, Kurt careful to not touch Blaine in the slightest. "I've located her in Boston." Blaine announced.

"Great! Let's go find her!" Santana exclaimed, obviously happy, getting up and beginning to head out the door. Kurt hadn't seen her so excited since they'd met.

"Hold on, we need the exact address if I can get to it, or at least a street. Boston's big you know, and we can't exactly go around saying, 'Have you seen this woman? She's my wife.'" Blaine said, clicking some buttons, trying to zoom in more. After typing in many codes, he finally got a street.

"Got it! Her location's on a street called Albany Boulevard." Kurt read from the screen, proud to have said it before Blaine could. He was, admittedly, a bit hurt to be dismissed that quickly, even though they were fighting... especially because he knew he would have been dismissed whether they were fighting or not. Blaine closed his computer and put it back in the large case.

"Santana, are you..." He tried to communicate his question to Kurt with his eyes, but Kurt's orbs evaded his every time. He sighed, knowing Kurt was even more mad, and he was going to get hell for it later.

"Santana, are you coming with us?" Never mind, it's against the rules for her to ride in the detective car with us. Detective car. That was what Kurt called Blaine's car, and it just stuck. Blaine smiled to himself.

"Hell yes, I'm coming." The woman pronounced loudly. She followed the two detectives outside, taking notice of the tension in the air.

"Are you two ex's or something?" She asked bluntly. Kurt spun around so quickly Blaine was sure he would get whiplash.

"No." He said sharply. "No, Blaine and I are not ex's."

"But you're both gay. I can see it from a mile away." Now Blaine turned, blinking at her.

"Yes, we are. I don't see how that's any of your business?" Santana shrugged.

"Well, we're going to get to know each other pretty well if you guys stick with this case. And with the amount I'm paying you, I think you're going to stick with the case." Kurt raised his eyebrows but said nothing as they all got into the car, himself and Blaine in the front, and Santana in the back, though she complained that she felt like she was a 'little fucker with Mommy Dearest' once again.

"Alright." Blaine said, sticking his head back to face Santana as Kurt was driving.

"So. Santana. We are going to go to Boston, around the relative area of Albany Boulevard. We're going to find a hotel to stay at overnight-"

"Wait, wait, wait, hold up." Blaine looked at her expectantly. "Why aren't we searching for Britt right away? Also, if we really do have to go to a hotel, please get me a room far away from you two. I don't want to hear you two hooking up while I'm trying to sleep."

"Oh, don't worry, that won't be happening." Kurt snarled from the front, giving Blaine a dirty look. Blaine glanced nervously back at him, and Santana whispered to him,

"You are so whipped. I'm not stupid; you two are closet cases, aren't you?" If Blaine hadn't been working for her, he would have slapped her.

"No...and once again, None. Of. Your. Business!" He said, punctuating every word, and wincing as he blatantly lied to her face. His dilemma was as follows: he always hated liars. But with every passing day with him and Kurt in the closet, he found himself lying more and more. Someone would say to him, 'Blaine, we're going out tonight! Want to come?' And he'd say 'No, I have to work late on a case, I'm sorry.' But it would be his and Kurt's date night. They would travel two cities away, where no one would know them. And it was fun, trapped in that little bubble, just for then.

Santana sighed, giving up on them for today. "Whatever you say..."

By the time they got in Boston, it was about 11 o'clock at night, so they stopped at a motel to get some sleep. Santana got her own room, but Kurt and Blaine only had enough money to share one. There was one double bed, so Kurt and Blaine had to sleep in the same bed. As they got into bed, Kurt did not make any contact nor talk to Blaine. Blaine turned off the light after a few minutes and as they dozed off, Blaine mumbled, "Kurt?"

"Yes?"  
"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too." Kurt said gruffly and shut his eyes, falling asleep quickly. Blaine sighed, knowing he had messed up a lot today from snapping at Kurt for not being serious, to saying how he would never date him. He turned around and fell into a rocky sleep of regret.

"Hey Britt, I hope you're listening to the voicemails, because I call you every night…. and I wish you could, or would respond. A-anyway, two of these detectives Kurt and Blaine who are quite annoying and I are looking for you in Boston. I miss and love you so much, and I know I will find you. Bye… again, I- I love you."

Santana hastily hung up and jumped into bed. She couldn't get any sleep ever since Brittany disappeared, so she tried as much as she could to go to sleep, but all she could think about was Brittany, Brittany, Brittany. So what was the point? What if she's in bigger danger than I could ever imagine? What if she never comes back? What will I do without her? Santana tortured herself with every possibility, and this time she couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her face. Instead of trying to stop them, she let herself cry...no, not cry, sob. She felt so sad, and right now, she wanted to feel sad. She fell asleep with a puffy face stained with tears.


End file.
